Losing Grip
by JenniGellerBing
Summary: Monica's life changes in the moment she finds two of the people she trusts most betraying her. Can she ever put her life back together - and who will she hurt in the process? *FINISHED* Thank you for reading and reviewing!
1. Run

A/N: Here is my third fic! It wasn't really inspired by Avril Lavigne's song "Losing Grip", but afterwards I realized it worked, so here it is.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Friends or Richard or tomato sauce. I also don't own Avril Lavigne's song "Losing Grip."

Losing Grip

CHAPTER ONE - Run

Monica lay silently in bed, listening hard to the conversation going on outside her bedroom door. She knew what was going on, but she didn't want to believe it. 

"I can't talk right now," her husband was saying. "She's home. Asleep. Well, she could wake up! I can't. Come on. I have to go. I'll talk to you tomorrow." The electronic click of a phone being turned off. 

The door to the bedroom opened, and in walked Richard's tall form. He undressed quietly and slipped into bed like a ghost. Monica bit her lip to keep from crying. She waited until Richards breathing was heavy and he was still before she got out of bed and went into the kitchen. She then sat down and cried, and thought, and wondered.

What had just happened? Well, that was easy. She had just heard her final evidence - her husband was cheating on her. Who else could Richard have been talking to besides his _mistress?_ Monica thought the word as if she was spitting it out, like a bad taste in her mouth. 

She was such an idiot. She'd seen the clues now, for weeks - they'd been staring her in the face. But she'd turned away, thinking that if she didn't acknowledge the truth it would go away. But the clarity struck her like a slap in the face. She'd been ignorant, moronic, really. And now she was facing the consequences. She was married to a dishonest man. 

Numbly, Monica left her apartment and crossed to Chandler and Joey's, praying one of them would be home. She dimly remembered Joey mentioning a date, but Chandler - hopefully her friend was home. She could think of nothing but escaping from the apartment where Richard was, where, as Phoebe would say, bad auras resided.

"Hey, Mon," Chandler said when he opened the door. His forehead immediately creased, and he asked, "What's wrong?" _I must really look awful,_ Monica thought.

"I think Richard's cheating on me," she whispered, feeling tears slide down her face.

"Oh, Mon," Chandler said, putting his arms around her. "Oh, honey." He led her inside and sat on the couch, holding her and rubbing her back as she cried. 

"I've suspected it for a while now," she sniffled, wiping at her tears. "I don't know what to do! Can I just leave him? Should I demand to know what's going on?" Monica stood up, beginning to work herself into a tizzy. "I can't believe he's _cheating_ on me! I know he is, I heard him, he was talking, saying he can't talk now, I'm asleep - "

"Monica," Chandler said, grabbing her arm. "Shh. Don't freak out. Are you _positive_ it was a woman he was talking to? Could it have been someone from work? A friend? Maybe he's, I don't know, planning a surprise birthday party? You can't freak out until you have the facts, Mon."

"I - I _guess_ it could have been someone else," Monica said doubtfully. "It's just that he always makes these little late at night phone calls, and last week I could've sworn I saw bright red lipstick on his mouth - "

"Ketchup?" Chandler suggested. 

Monica sighed. "Maybe. That's possible." She put her face in her hands. "Maybe I am getting worked up over nothing. I'm sorry I bothered you. I'll just go home." She was suddenly embarrassed for crying like that. 

"It's okay. Just don't worry about it." Chandler stood up. "Oh, and Mon? Remember what I said when you got married. If he _ever_ hurts you - I'll pound him. Or... die trying," he said with a grin. 

"Yeah. I love you too, Chandler," she said with a smile. 

********

For a few days, Monica watched Richard closer than ever. Was his hair mussed, like someone had recently run their hands through it? Did his secretary seem nervous and worried when she called, stammering, "He's on a break," like it was some secret?

Finally, she tried to stop worrying. Monica didn't want to turn into one of those jealous, obsessive housewives. Everything was fine. Wasn't it? Why would Richard cheat on her? They had a happy, loving, passionate relationship - there was no reason for him to want more.

Then it happened. Monica's life as she knew it ended, and a new, painful, confusing one began. The day she caught two of the people she trusted most betraying her opened Monica's eyes to the fact that the world was not the kind, gentle place she'd thought it was. The world was a hateful place, full of deceitful people and broken lives. 

"Richard?" she called, opening the door to their apartment, her arms loaded down with bags of groceries. "Could you come help me?" No answer. She could hear something coming from within the bedroom - maybe he was watching TV. Monica went to the bedroom and opened the door, unprepared for what she would see.

Richard, in bed. With another woman. A blonde woman. The bags fell from Monica's arms, and there was a loud clatter as a jar of tomato sauce shattered, sending the thick red substance and shards of glass spraying onto her ankles. Monica could feel that pain, but the pain that was coming in deep, dark waves hurt more. She couldn't breathe. Darkness was closing in around her eyes. Anger, sadness, confusion - building up inside, threatening to overwhelm her. But she could stammer only one word.

"Phoebe?" 

When Monica locked eyes with her friend, she saw regret for only a moment. Saw only one moment of seven years of friendship, of complete honesty and trusting. But then that was gone, replaced with something cold and hard and extremely un-Phoebe-like. Phoebe turned away, pulling the sheet over her naked body.

And then there was Richard. His eyes were darting from side to side, from Phoebe to Monica, his lover to his wife. But there was very little emotion there. "I'm sorry, Monica," he said simply. Monica stared at them in bed for a second, mouthing wordlessly, her mouth unable to form the screams that were ricocheting through her brain.

"Bitch," she whispered, directing her comment at both Phoebe and Richard, her face screwing up. Phoebe's eyes registered slight surprise, but no more. Then, Monica turned and ran. She could feel where the glass had cut her legs, and she slipped on the thick red sauce that was on the floor, but she just ran. Out of her apartment - down the hall, out of the building - past Central Perk - down the block, she ran. Needing to get away from the unbelievable sight she'd seen upstairs. 

_No,_ she thought desperately. _No, I'm dreaming. I'm dreaming, somebody please wake me up. I did not just find Richard in bed with Phoebe. It's just a dream and soon you'll wake up and everything will be okay._ But she knew it wasn't a dream. You couldn't feel glass shards puncturing your skin in dreams. You couldn't feel hot tears rolling down your face as you sobbed and gasped. You couldn't feel your heart being squeezed and slashed and broken into a million pieces. The pain she was feeling wasn't real in dreams.

At that moment, Monica vowed never to look back, never again to let someone hurt her the way she was hurting right now. 

She heard someone calling her name but didn't turn around.

_Are you aware of what you make me feel, baby_

Right now I feel invisible to you, like I'm not real

Didn't you feel me lock my arms around you?

Why'd you turn away?

Here's what I have to say

I was left to cry there 

Waiting outside there

Grinning with a lost stare

That's when I decided

Why should I care?

Cause you weren't there when I was scared

I was so alone

You need to listen

I'm starting to trip

I'm losing my grip

And I'm in this thing alone

_Copyright 2002, Avril Lavigne, "Let Go"_


	2. Left

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I usually don't have much to say here, but today I'm going to sing a little song. It's one day after Thanksgiving, but this song is appropriate. Please don't think I'm crazy - I'm just a little hyper. So here's the song.

My name is gobble chicken, I like to gobble gobble!

That's the whole song. LOL.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I don't own the _Friends_ characters, I don't own Avril Lavigne's song, I don't even own the gobble chicken song (that, my friends, is the property of my psychotic friend Leah).

CHAPTER TWO - Left

Chandler stepped out of the cab and saw a brunette figure racing down the street. He frowned. He recognized - 

"Monica?" he said, confused. "Monica!" he yelled after her. She didn't stop running. Chandler contemplated chasing her, but then decided he'd look like a moron - or worse, a stalker - if he followed her and it turned out it wasn't Monica. He picked up his briefcase and went up to his apartment. 

He was startled by red footsteps and blotches leading through the lobby, up to his hallway, and into Monica's wide open door. Was it blood? He looked into her apartment and saw more red puddles, and brown bags, full of broken groceries, littered the floor. The red he saw was tomato sauce, but there was something else splattered - and it looking like blood. _What the hell has happened here?_

Chandler was seized with sudden terror. Where was Richard? And if the running woman was Monica, what was she running from?

"Richard?" he called, racing through the apartment to the bedroom. "Monica?" He opened the door and looked inside. His jaw dropped.

Phoebe and Richard were in bed together. _Phoebe and Richard._ "I don't believe this," he spat, utterly disgusted. "I just - how could you do this to her?" He left, slamming the door behind him. 

Phoebe came racing out, a blanket pulled around her. "Chandler, wait! Where are you going?"

"To find Monica," he said. He looked at his friend, who's face was pale. "Pheebs - " he pleaded. "I can't believe you did this! You know she's still hurting..."

"Tell her I'm sorry," Phoebe said, tears filling her eyes. "I didn't mean to hurt her."

"I don't think she's going to care," Chandler whispered sadly. "I really don't." As a single tear rolled down Phoebe's cheek, Chandler left. He had to find Monica. 

For three hours, he walked around Manhattan, looking for his friend. He called Ross and Rachel and Joey, who joined the search. But they all retired, exhausted and sad, to Chandler and Joey's apartment around midnight. Monica was gone. She wasn't at any of their favorites restaurants or hang outs, or at the gym or work, or anywhere she would normally go. 

"I can't believe they would do this," Ross raged, slamming his fist onto the countertop. "Richard and _Phoebe?!_ Don't they care about her at all? Ever since the baby... she's been so fragile..."

"They must have known this would break her heart!" Rachel wailed. She put her face in her hands. "She just.... _left._ Where could she be?"

"She'll be okay tonight," Joey said, a hint of doubt in his voice. "She's a big girl."

''I'm more concerned about Richard's health," Chandler growled, standing up and heading for the door. "After I'm through with him." He opened it, then looked expectantly at his friends. "Well, aren't you going to help me?"

"Guys, there's no sense going over there and getting yourselves beat up," Rachel said sensibly. "We just have to stay here and wait for Monica. She's going to need us more than ever." 

"She's right," Ross said. "As much as I'd like to go over there and kick his pathetic, cheating ass, there's no point." Ross sighed. "I guess we should be going home." Ross and Rachel currently lived together across the alley from Monica and Richard and Joey and Chandler. Rachel took Ross's hand and they left, asking Chandler and Joey to call immediately if they heard from Monica.

"I'm wiped," Joey said. "Are you going to bed?"

"I think I'm going to stay up for a while," Chandler said distractedly. Joey said good night and went into his room. Chandler sat down on the couch and turned the TV on. He looked on the phone and willed it to ring.

_Please, Monica,_ he prayed. _Please be okay. Don't do anything drastic. We still love you. You can get through this._ But Chandler was terrified that she couldn't. 

Chandler was woken the next morning by the phone ringing next to his ear. He'd fallen asleep on the couch. He snatched it up and answered, "Hello?"

"Chandler?" a small voice said.

"Monica, is that you? Are you okay? Where are you?" Chandler said, jumping up instinctively. 

"I'm fine. I'm - somewhere. I'm fine." Monica seemed hesitant to speak.

"Where are you? Do you want me to come get you?" Chandler asked hurriedly. 

"No!" Monica said forcefully. "No. I'm okay. Could you just - could you tell Ross and my parents and everyone that I love them and I'll see them... sometime?"

"Monica, no," Chandler said. "Where are you? Please don't do anything. Don't - don't do anything to yourself."

"I'll be fine," she said. "Just..." she trailed off.

"Monica - are you okay? Where are you?"

"Just tell them. Please. And Chandler?"

"Yes?" Chandler said, a sense of desperation overcoming him. What was Monica going to do? _Please, God, don't let her hurt herself. I need her. _

"Tell Phoebe I don't hate her." Chandler could hear the pain in her voice. 

"Let me come get you," Chandler begged. "Let me at least see you. Please, Mon. Where are you?"

"I just need to be alone. Good bye." And she hung up. Chandler fell back onto the couch, slapping his hand over his head.

"Who was that?" Joey asked sleepily, coming out of his bedroom.

"Monica," Chandler said. "It was Monica."

For three days, Chandler grappled with the fact that he'd talked to Monica - and let her get away. They were all terrified that Monica had done something reckless. This could be the breaking point in a string of bad events. 

The year before, Monica had finally become pregnant. She'd been happy, but Richard had not. Their marriage had been rocky for a while, and he'd even asked her to get rid of the baby at one point. But then, when Monica was seven months pregnant, Richard, driving home from a friend's house outside Manhattan with a few beers in his system, crashed their car into a tree. He wasn't hurt, and Monica sustained only minor injuries, but she lost the baby.

Monica was devastated. As if losing her unborn child wasn't enough, Richard didn't sympathize or even support her during her time of grief. He even seemed relieved, happy, that they weren't having a baby. Monica considered leaving him at one point, but finally realized she had no where to go, and did still love him.

But things had been tough for Monica ever since. And now, to find out that Richard was cheating on her with Phoebe, one of her best friends - who knew what that might drive her to? The word they were all thinking but didn't dare to speak.... _suicide._ Would Monica kill herself? It seemed doubtful - Monica was strong - but they couldn't be sure. 

Chandler couldn't sleep at night. He and Monica were closer than any of them knew. They were the best of friends, as close Monica and Chandler were with Rachel and Joey, respectively. And despite Monica's marriage, Chandler felt more for her than he'd ever let anyone know. To lose her, to know that he'd spoken to her and let her go, was too much to bear.

Then she called again. It was late at night this time, on a Friday. Joey was out - even his worry for Monica couldn't stop him from dating - but Chandler was at home, watching TV and trying desperately to distract himself. He was thinking, thinking about the heartbroken look Phoebe had given him when he'd said Monica didn't hate her.

"I hate myself," Phoebe had said, beginning to cry. "I really hate myself." That was all she'd said before rushing out of his apartment. That was the day after Monica left, and no one had seen her since. 

None of them had talked to Richard. As Monica hadn't said anything about telling him anything, Chandler refrained from speaking to the man, whom he currently had no respect for. He passed him in the downstairs lobby once as he came home from work, but he just glared at him. 

"Hello?" Chandler said into the phone that night.

"Chandler. It's Monica," Monica said, her voice slightly more relaxed then it had been the last time they'd talked.

"Monica? Where are you?" He was filled with delight and relief, but also dread. Why was Monica calling again? He had a sense of deja vu from the last time they'd spoken. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Listen, is - is Joey there?"

"No, he's out," Chandler said. 

"Okay, good. I really - I sort of need to talk to you," Monica said slowly.

"Anything. But are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Chandler," she said, chuckling. "Don't worry. I'm not... I think I know what you're thinking, but don't worry - I'm not going to do anything. I just need to talk to you." She took a deep breath while Chandler waited. "Actually, I need you to talk to me. How is everybody?"

Chandler was taken aback. Didn't Monica want to cry and moan to him about her broken life? No. Apparently, she wanted to see how the rest of _their_ lives were going. She was so selfless. "We're all - okay. Worried about you."

"Is Ross okay? I really don't want him to be worried. He's been so stressed, what with Ben and all," Monica said.

"Well, he is worried. He really wants you to come home," Chandler said.

"That's another thing I need to talk to you about." Monica sighed, and Chandler waited anxiously for several moments. "I'm not coming home."

__

Am I just some chick you placed beside you

To take somebody's place

When you turn around can you recognize my face?

Didn't you feel me lock my arms around you?

Why'd you turn away?

Here's what I have to say

I was left to cry there

Waiting outside there

Grinning with a lost stare

That's when I decided

Why should I care?

Cause you weren't there when I was scared

I was so alone

You need to listen

I'm starting tot rip, I'm losing my grip

And I'm in this thing alone

A/N: Well, that was my weak attempt at a cliffhanger. :) Please review!


	3. Never

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I know, I just about killed Richard as well - and I'm the one writing the fic! I'm going to admit, the characters will be a little... out of character, but that's just how it has to be! 

Disclaimer: STILL don't own any of them, but I am working with Warner Bros. to get a deal signed. 

CHAPTER THREE - Never

"Come again?" Chandler said, after several seconds of speechlessness. "You're not - what?"

"I'm not coming home. Ever." Monica said it so finally that it scared Chandler.

"What are you talking about? You have to come home."

"No, I don't," Monica argued. "And I'm not. I don't think I can live in the city for a long time. I can't see Richard. Things have been... so _difficult_ lately, I just want to start over. I'm thinking about maybe moving to Virginia, or maybe even out West. Anywhere where I can start over and not have all this _shit_ following me. I've lost Richard - what does it matter where I am now?"

"Monica, you've got to be kidding me. I know things haven't been the best lately - okay, things have sucked - but you still have all of _us._ Me and Ross and Rachel and Joey - "

"But Richard and Phoebe... no. I can't do it. I'm never coming home." 

Chandler was angry. Angry at himself for having to be the one to have this conversation with Monica, angry at Richard and Phoebe for sleeping together and causing Monica so much pain - angry at Monica for leaving him like this.

"So you're just going to run away from you're problems, Monica? That's really mature. You're just going to escape, not face it all like a fucking grown up would." He spat the words at her huffily, realizing too late that he would regret his words. 

"That's not all of it," Monica shot back. "You don't understand, Chandler."

"_I_ don't understand? I don't understand what it's like to have your whole goddamned life fall apart around you? I know, Monica, believe me. I know it's hard to deal with. But I did it. I didn't run away from home like an angry kid. I stuck by the people who I love and I _got through it_!" He'd never spoken to Monica in such an angry tone. But he'd also never been this enraged. 

"I thought you would understand," Monica said quietly. "I thought you would, but you don't." There was a click as she hung up.

"Monica? Monica!" he yelled into the phone. "Dammit, you talk to me right now, Monica!" The dial tone buzzed, loud and annoying, in his ear, and he threw the phone down. 

Monica was gone. She'd called him to help her, and he'd just yelled. Chandler closed his eyes tightly in shame. He'd blown it. He'd blown it big time. He lay down on the couch, clenching and unclenching his fists in a wild frenzy against himself. 

The phone rang again. It rang three times before he picked it up. "Hello?" he said, trying to unlock his jaw.

"It's me," Monica's soft voice said. "I'm sorry I hung up." 

Chandler was in shock. "I'm - I'm sorry I yelled," he finally said in a strangled voice.

"I guess I sort of knew you'd be mad. I know you don't really understand, and I shouldn't have expected you to. But I just need someone to talk to. I need someone to listen." Monica's voice shook with tears, and Chandler felt guiltier than ever.

"I promise I won't say anymore," he said. "I promise I'll listen."

Then it all came spilling out - how Monica couldn't bear to face everyone again, couldn't stand the embarrassment a wife felt after she found her husband in bed with another woman. And with _Phoebe_, no less! One of her best friends! Two people she trusted with her life had betrayed her and not even cared enough to apologize. 

"Phoebe did," Chandler corrected. "Phoebe said she was sorry."

Here Monica sighed again. "I know she is. That's why I don't hate her. I'm angry with her, of course, but I can't hate her. I really think I want to forgive her - just not yet. She's Phoebe. She didn't know what she was doing."

"How is that possible?" Chandler said, confused. "Did she _not_ take her pants off - ?"

"That's not what I mean. Phoebe gets so caught up in things, she probably didn't realize how badly she was screwing up, and by the time she did, it was too late and they already had a wild affair going on." Monica sounded sad, but sure of herself. "How is she? I don't want to sound evil, or anything, but is - is she suffering? I mean, is she plagued with guilt and remorse? Is she afraid she's going to hell for her sins?" 

Chandler laughed. He was happy Monica could joke about this already, but he also knew that what she was saying wasn't entirely a joke.   
"I haven't seen her for about a week," he said. "But she was miserable then. She's too embarrassed to see any of us. Joey talked to her on the phone a couple of times, though, and he said she sounded awful. She talked about how sorry she was, and even about leaving the country! She really is sorry, Mon."

"Good," Monica said softly. "What about Richard?"

Chandler bit his lip. How could he tell Monica that he hadn't seen Richard looking sad or ambivalent at all? That her formerly loving husband hadn't asked where Monica was, if she was okay - even mentioned anything about being sorry for hurting her? He couldn't, so he lied. "I haven't seen him. But, Mon, who wouldn't be upset at losing you?" 

Monica was satisfied. They talked for a while longer, and then Monica said she should go. Chandler argued.

"It's okay," Monica assured him. "I'll call you again. Don't worry. Oh, and Chandler... don't tell anyone what I said. If they ask if you've heard from me, just say I called, and I'm fine. I want to talk to them myself someday." 

That's exactly what he did. The next day, when Ross again asked the group if they'd received any clue to Monica's whereabouts, Chandler said, "I talked to her last night, and she's perfectly fine." They pressed him for more, but he insisted that was all he'd heard.

Over the next two weeks, Monica called Chandler four more times. Every time, she told him a little more about where she was, what she planned to do, what was running through her head.

"I know I can't just leave everybody behind and act like they never existed," she said. "I love you guys so much. It's just - well, it's too painful to be in the city. The wounds are too fresh, and I think being back home would just salt them. I need some time away from everything."

"Why don't you call Ross and Rachel?" Chandler suggested. "Even though I tell them every day you're fine, they're still so worried."

"I will, eventually. For now I just like talking to you." Chandler didn't fight that anymore. He liked just talking to her too. 

The next time they talked, Monica said, "I've been really lonely. If you promise not to send the troops after me, I'll tell you where I am."

Excited, Chandler said he wouldn't. "I'm just upstate," Monica explained. "My cousin Francine owns some real estate up here, and I'm in a cabin in the mountains. I was actually surprised Ross didn't figure it out and call her." 

"Let me come see you," Chandler pleaded. "I swear, I won't tell anyone where you are."

"We-ell..." Monica considered this. "It would be great to see you. I really miss you, Chandler." She was silent. "All right. Come up here next weekend."

So, the next weekend, Chandler rented a car and drove 200 miles to upstate New York. He followed the hastily scribbled directions on a crumpled piece of paper, watching miles and miles of trees and forests flash by. _Where the hell is this?_ he wondered. _It's the middle of freaking nowhere._

His friends thought he was on a business trip. Monica had sworn him to secrecy. 

Finally he pulled up in front of the small cabin. He nervously got out of the car. Sure, it had only been three weeks since he'd seen Monica, but it was obvious that she'd changed in ways that weren't good. She wans't his innocent, gentle friend Monica anymore. Whenever they talked about anything that had happened, Monica got a hard tone to her voice. Chandler walked up to the front door and knocked.

Monica opened it. She was wearing faded black sweats and a tee shirt that said "Read Your Own Damn Tee-Shirt," and looked like it belonged to a fourteen year old. Her hair was a mass of tangled brown strands, and her eyes were red. Still, Chandler thought in amazement, she was beautiful. How could someone who looked so miserable could also look so gorgeous? _That's easy,_ Chandler thought without thinking. _The woman you love will always look amazing._

"Hi," she said, smiling shyly and staring at her feet. Chandler looked down too and saw she was wearing one pink sock and one brown one. 

"Hi," he replied. He set down his bag and tentatively opened his arms. She immediately buried herself in him, holding him as if they hadn't seen each other in a lifetime. Chandler held her as well, happy just to have her there in his arms. He kissed her hair, which smelled like strawberries and freshly ground coffee. 

At last she broke apart and welcomed him in. Chandler looked around the front room of the cabin. "I'll give you the grand tour," Monica said. "This is the living room," she gestured around the room. It was furnished with a loveseat, an over-stuffed arm chair, an old rocking chair, and an end table. Next Monica led him through to the kitchen. "Here's the kitchen slash dining room." A table with two chairs was against one wall, and a stove, sink, fridge, and cabinets lined the others. "The bathroom is in here. And my room's back there." She turned to him and smiled faintly. "It's not much, but it's home, for now. Until I find a better place.''

"Mon, you're not actually going to stay here, are you?" Chandler burst out. He hadn't meant to bring up that, hadn't meant for the anger they'd tactfully avoided discussing to resurface, but he couldn't stop it. 

"I like it up here," Monica said simply.

"Why? No offense, but the 'town' you said I'd pass through consisted of a gas station and an outhouse," Chandler said, putting the ever-popular air quotes around the word 'town'.

"Don't be sarcastic, Chandler," Monica snapped, walking back to the living room. "There's a grocery store and a little Wal-mart, and up a couple of miles there's a big resort with restaurants and stuff. I'm not completely in the middle of nowhere."

"But what exactly is here for you?" Chandler inquired. "Besides trees and hills and - forests?"

"I know what there's not," Monica said, averting her eyes. "Cheating husbands. Lying girlfriends. The forest is completely devoid of those, thanks." She sat down on the love seat and began fiddling with a loose string. 

Chandler sat down next to her. "Where will you work?" he asked. _No, you idiot, that's not what you want to ask_, he reprimanded himself.

"At the hotel restaurant," Monica mumbled. "I talked to them, and they can hire me part-time. Until I get another job. There's a couple of places about 30 miles from here..."

"Monica, please. Please reconsider. We all want you back home," Chandler begged. 

"I can't go back there," Monica whispered. "I just can't. I don't have anything to go home to."

"You have us," Chandler said. "Me and Ross and Rachel and Joey - we all love you, Monica." He'd said it so many times, told her so many times that they loved her - why didn't she understand?

"I can still talk to you," Monica insisted. "I've got a phone. And I mean, there's plenty of people who only see their brothers at Thanksgiving... their high school best friends' at reunions... and you at the coffeehouse..." Monica collapsed into tears and fell against Chandler's shoulder.

"Shh," he said, rubbing her back. "Shhh."

Monica pulled away, her large blue eyes staring straight into his. "I'm scared to go back there. I'm scared I'll still be in love with Richard. I'm scared he'll hurt me again. How can I be sure I won't fall back in love with him if we're in the same city? How can I be sure? I don't know anything anymore. I can't be hurt like that again."

Chandler didn't think. All he knew was that Monica was hurting - he had to comfort her, had to show her that someone cared about her more than anything else in the world.

So he kissed her. 

__

Crying out loud

  
I'm crying out loud

  
Crying out loud

  
I'm crying out loud  
  
Open your eyes  
Open up wide

  
Why should I care

  
'Cuz you weren't there when I was scared

  
I was so alone

Copyright 2002, Avril Lavigne, "Let Go"

A/N: Please review! Thanks a bunch ;)  



	4. Empty

A/N: Thank you for the reviews... again. Sorry this took so long to put up. I'm reworking part of the story, and plus I've got a ridiculous amount of homework for the next couple of weeks. 

Disclaimer: I don't own any of them. _Friends_ is the property of NBC, and WB, and "Losing Grip" is the property of Avril Lavigne.

CHAPTER FOUR - Empty

In the seconds they kissed, Monica was brought back to a time ten years before... the only other time they'd kissed. The time they said it would never work...

_December 20, 1989 _

Monica and Rachel plowed through the driving snow to the front door of the small cabin. Monica fumbled for the key and opened the door. The two girls, 20 now, entered, bringing snow in with them. They were on a Christmas vacation to the mountains to ski. The cabin belonged to an uncle of Monica and her brother, Ross, and they, along with Monica's best friend Rachel and Ross's best friend Chandler, were staying for three days.

"I'm gonna take a shower," Monica said, pulling off her coat. Rachel nodded and placed her skis carefully against the wall.

"Don't take too long. We're meeting for dinner at the lodge in forty five minutes," she reminded her. Monica nodded and headed upstairs.

She took an extended, hot shower. She looked down at herself as the scalding water dripped down her body and sighed. 100 pounds in one year - it was a fat person's miracle. Sure, she looked great, but she felt unsatisfied, unfulfilled. Empty. Food had been her comfort, her love. The one ray of hope in her life, the life of being the fat sidekick to her Prom-Queen best friend, little sister to her genius older brother, daughter to her mother, who criticized her endlessly and her father, who didn't get her... girlfriend to none. 

Monica stepped out of the shower and goose bumps popped up on her arms and legs before she could wrap a towel around her body. She stepped out of the steamy bathroom and into the cold hall. She was walking down the hallway, staring out the window at the snow, when someone bumped into her. She shrieked and the towel slipped down her body, revealing the top of her breast. She quickly pulled it up again. 

She finally looked up and saw Chandler standing there, his mouth hanging wide open. "Chandler!" she screamed. He immediately spun away.

"I didn't see anything," he lied. "I really didn't."

"Oh my God, you scared the shit out of me," she said, clutching the towel tightly. 

"I'm sorry," he said, still turned away. "I am so, so sorry."

''It's okay," she said, her heart still beating rapidly. "Now, is there a reason you practically killed me or were you just coming up here for the hell of it?" She'd never spoken to Chandler like this. Despite his dorkiness, she was terribly intimidated by him. She wasn't sure if it was the fact he was obviously petrified right now, or that she was naked, but something had made her stronger, braver.

"Oh, um, yeah," Chandler mumbled. "But, uh, do you maybe want to get, get changed first? You're probably not, uh, comfortable with, ya know..."

"Right," Monica said, blushing. "I'll be right back." She hurried off to the large room she and Rachel were sharing and quickly put on some comfortable jeans and a shirt. Then she brushed her hair out, slicked on some lip gloss, and went downstairs, where Chandler was standing near the window, watching the snow. 

"Hey," she said, touching his shoulder gently. He jumped. "Sorry - did I scare you?" she asked, a small smile on her face.

"Let's just say we're even," he said, turning around and smiling at her. "Listen, I really am sorry about earlier - "

"Forget about it," she said. He nodded, and went back to staring out the window. "Is something wrong?" He seemed distracted and removed. Monica felt a little awkward talking one-on-one with him like this, but she pressed on. "Did anything happen?"

"Well, no, not really," Chandler said. "I just - I found this letter from my dad in my backpack." He pulled an wrinkled envelope out of his pocket. "It's from like eight years ago. Right after he left." Monica knew Chandler had a strange past and a father who'd pulled a disappearing act, but little more. "It's just sort of - rattled me."

"Oh," Monica said softly. Chandler had so many more layers than she knew - every time she talked to him she discovered one. 

"Oh!" he said suddenly. "Ross and Rachel went to get food from the grocery store, and they'll probably be back in an hour or so. We heard at the lodge that a snowstorm's coming, so everybody's stocking up. We're just staying here for dinner. That's - that's what I was going to tell you before."

"I see," Monica said. In a movie, she thought, the heroine would say seductively, _So we're all alone._ All she managed was, "So we're stuck here." _Fantastic observation, heroine_.

"Yeah." Monica plopped down onto the couch and stared into the fire. Chandler stayed near the window. 

"I wonder if any of the channels are coming in," Monica mumbled, standing up to fiddle with the TV antennae. At that moment, the lights when out. "Dammit," she said as they were plunged into total darkness. 

"I think we lost power."

"Yeah, or else someone just turned out every light in the house just to freak us out," Chandler said sarcastically, but with a shaking voice. 

"There's flashlights next to the refrigerator," Monica remembered suddenly. She walked through the kitchen and heard Chandler follow her. They both reached for the flashlight, sitting on the floor, at the same time, and bonked heads. "Ow," they said simultaneously, rubbing their foreheads. Slowly, Monica and Chandler straightened up, their noses inches apart. Despite the darkness, electricity crackled between them. 

_Something is going to happen,_ Monica thought. They both leaned forward, and their lips gently met. _You're kissing,_ she thought. She'd never really been kissed before. _You're kissing Chandler. You're kissing Chandler Bing, Ross's best friend..._

They both leaped away in a sudden flurry of motion. The silence in the kitchen was deafening. Monica stood perfectly still, waiting for Chandler to say something.

"We shouldn't," he finally murmured. "You're Ross's little sister."

"Mmhmm," Monica said. 

"He'd kill me."

"Yeah."

"I have a bad track record with women. I know nothing would ever work. You're really great, it's just, you're Ross's little sister and it would be - "

"Chandler," she said, cutting off his ramblings. "It's okay. Don't say anymore." She sighed. "I know it would never work. So let's just leave it at that and be friends. Okay? This never happened."

"Right," he said. He thought for a second, then said, "Could it maybe have happened except not with you? Kissing a girl in a blackout is a great story..." he said, smiling.

"Sure," she said. "Whatever." She leaned forward tentatively and pecked him on the cheek. "Now let's go fix that circuit breaker."

*********

Monica remembered that night clearly as they kissed - and she also remembered how it ended. Gently, this time, she broke apart, her lips feeling cold and bare. It had felt right with Chandler there. It had felt nice. 

Chandler looked at her, his lips still parted slightly. "I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Monica said. "And don't say anything. We've had that conversation before." She smiled regretfully.

Chandler nodded, his ears reddening like they always did when he was embarrassed. Monica could feel adrenaline pumping through her body, her lips tingling, her lower area warm.

After several minutes of silence, Chandler said, "You know what would make this moment a little more comfortable?"

"What?" Monica asked.

"Beer," he said. "Got any?"

Monica smiled. "No," she said. "Sorry. But we could go down to the resort for dinner."

"Sounds good." They did not speak about the kiss again that night. 

In the middle of the night, Monica tossed and turned in her bed. Something was on her mind. Well, something was on her mind every night - she'd almost turned into an insomniac. But tonight there was something she could do about it. She got out of bed and tiptoed down the hall to the family room, where Chandler was asleep.

She knelt next to him and watched him. He looked so peaceful, sleeping like a baby. She'd missed him so much over the time she was gone... that's why she'd called him. She missed the rest too, but the way she missed Chandler was like a longing, deep in her heart. She contemplated not waking him as she leaned closer.

"Ahhhhrrghhh!" Chandler yelled, opening his eyes. Monica jumped back. "What are you doin'?"

"I'm watching you sleep," she replied, grinning widely. 

Chandler's face relaxed as he remembered the night, years before, when they'd been in this same situation. "You know I hate it when people watch me sleep." 

"You really are adorable," she said.

"So why are you really out here?" he asked, more seriously. 

"I couldn't sleep," Monica admitted. "I need to talk to you about something." She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. 

"Come here," he said, opening his arms for her. Tentatively, she crawled onto the loveseat and under the blanket. She let him hold her, something he hadn't done since she'd married Richard. "Now what's the matter?"

"Everything," she replied. _Nothing, _she thought. _Nothing, here in your arms._ _Ugh, that sounded so cliched._ "I don't know if I can really stay out here. I love the city. It's my home. And I love you guys. It's just... like I said before, everything there will make me think of Richard. Or Phoebe. And that just hurts so much..." he throat closed up. "I am _not_ going to cry. I'm _not_. Oh, yes I am," she wailed, leaning her head against his shoulder. 

"Shhh," Chandler murmured. "Shhh."

"Am I destined to be unhappy? Am I going to be alone forever?" Monica asked desperately.

"No," Chandler said, rocking her back and forth. "No. I'll make sure of that." 

Ten minutes later, she fell asleep in his arms. They slept there together all night.

__

Cryin' out loud

I'm cryin' out loud

Cryin' out loud,

I'm cryin' out loud

__

Copyright 2002, Avril Lavigne, "Let Go"


	5. Burn

A/N: Here's the next part! More flashbacks... I love writing those! And thanks so much to MsAmericanPie88 for the support! Love you gurlie! LOL. Okay, in this chapter, people may seem a little out of character (especially Phoebe) but that's how it is.

CHAPTER FIVE - Burn

Chandler left late Sunday afternoon. Monica promised to call the next day, but still did not give him her phone number, despite his assurances he would not tell. Monica didn't want to talk to anyone else besides him, and Chandler, feeling guilty for his selfishness, relished that.

"Remember, Mon, if you need anything at all - even if you just want someone to listen while you cry," he said as they parted at her door, "call me. Anytime, day or night." He kissed her cheek. 

"Okay." They both smiled once more and then he left. "Bye," she called softly after him.

"Bye," he replied.

On the long drive home, Chandler thought so much he was afraid his head was going to explode. He thought about Monica, about her problems and her pain, about her their kisses, about Phoebe and Richard, and about the night Monica and Richard had become engaged. The night he made a promise to himself that he knew he would never keep.

_Christmas Eve, 1995_

Chandler entered Monica and Rachel's apartment with a sour look on his face.

"Merry Christmas," Phoebe and Rachel chorused. 

"Yeah, Merry Christmas," Chandler muttered back. 

"What's the matter?" Ross asked, placing a bow on a wrapped present. 

"Nothing," Chandler lied. "Is Monica here?"

"No, she's been with Richard all day," Rachel said. _Ah, yes, just what I needed to hear_. "Why?"

"No reason," Chandler replied, in the indifferent, nonchalant voice he'd perfected over the last couple of years. The one he used every time he spoke to Richard, the goddamn tree of a boyfriend Monica had been with for over a year. _The man should put a bow on his head and be a Christmas tree,_ Chandler thought sarcastically, eyeing the fresh green spruce in Monica's living room. It was comments like that which got Monica mad at him.

Ever since their first date, after Monica had told them she was going out with Doctor Richard Burke, their parent's friend, Chandler had been waiting for the day she would come home in tears, and he would be there with open arms, waiting to hold her tightly. He knew it was parsimonious and was ashamed, but there was nothing he could do. He had been the best friend, the one to comfort Monica, for two years. He would listen for the sound of light, dragging footsteps, of soft, feminine tears, and he would jump up and go over to her apartment. She would tearfully tell him about the latest break-up or freakish date, and he would hold her and tell her the right guy was out there, that she deserved better. Sometimes she would fall asleep in his arms and he would hold her, watching her sleep, studying the way her eyes fluttered open and shut while she dreamed, the way her lips curved into a sweet smile. 

Sometimes he would fall asleep too, and they would awake with their bodies and faces pressed together much too close, and she would smile and kiss the tip of his nose, and he would brush the hair away from her face, and they would have the most intimate moment. Then she would thank him for being the best best-friend in the world, and Chandler would smile ruefully and leave, feeling like the most pitiful idiot in the world.

Because he'd fallen in love with Monica. He'd fallen hard. 

And now she was dating this Richard guy. And now there were no more nights of comforting Monica, no more tears to kiss away or whispers to be heard. Only fantastic stories about her wonderful boyfriend. _Phooey_, Chandler thought childishly. _He's twenty one years older! It'll never last, right?_

As the gang (minus Monica) watched, to Joey's insistence, _A Charlie Brown Christmas_, Monica and Richard, clutching each other's hands, burst into the apartment, all smiles.

"Merry Christmas!" the group said. 

"Merry Christmas!" Monica cried back, her voice above it's normal ear-splitting decibel. She was grinning from ear to ear, and she dragged Richard over to stand in front of everyone, gathered on the couch and chairs in the living room. "Everyone, we have something to announce." She looked at Richard and hopped a little in excitement. "We're engaged!"

Rachel and Phoebe gave squeals of excitement and jumped up to hug Monica. Ross shook Richard's hand and congratulated him, and Joey vigorously patted the older man on the back. Chandler sat in his seat, in shock.

_Engaged?!_ he thought in horror. _She's _marrying _him? You've got to be kidding me._

"Chandler?" Monica said, peering at him. "Are you okay?"

"Huh?" Chandler said, trying not to let his distressed feelings show on his face. "Oh, yeah! I - I didn't understand at first. Engaged. Wow. Congratulations," he said half-heatedly. He hugged Monica and avoided Richard, as normal. 

They'd opened two bottles of wine and drank to the happy couple. All the while, Chandler felt like someone was stabbing him in the heart with a knife - no, a machete. His throat contracted, and he would swallow hard. 

Later, while everyone else was eating or watching TV, Monica found Chandler standing out on the balcony. The cold felt good, fresh, and the stinging it created on his face stopped the tears that were threatening him.

"Chandler, what are you doing out here?" she asked, rubbing her arms under her heavy coat. She also had his, which he's left inside, over her arm. "Put this on - you'll freeze to death." She shoved the coat into his arms.

_Always worried about us,_ he thought. _Always helping._ He loved her for that. "I like it. I'm just - thinking." 

"About what?" Monica asked, standing close to him.

_About how I love you_, he thought. _About how I've loved you since I was 21. How I want to take you in my arms and never let you go. About how the heat we would produce if we kissed would burn down Central Park._

There was so much he could say. 

_She's getting married,_ he reminded himself sternly. _If you said any of those things, you would look like an fool. Things would become awkward and your friendship would be ruined. Do you want that to happen? No. You must never tell her how you feel. _So he said the last thing on his mind.

"About how happy I am for you and Richard."

*********

When Chandler arrived home, he found Joey sitting in in the living room silently. The TV of off, and he wasn't doing anything. Just sitting.

"Joey?" Chandler said. "What's going on?" 

Joey turned around in his chair and looked at Chandler. His eyes looked hollow, and they were bloodshot. "It's Phoebe. She's in the hospital. She overdosed on sleeping pills."

They met Ross and Rachel at the hospital. The four sat, waiting to hear anything from the doctors. They knew nothing - not even if Phoebe would live or die. 

Chandler was struggling to process it at all. It was unbelievable was that Phoebe would do this. Phoebe was not the type of person to even think about suicide. She was so happy and bright, with such a positive outlook on life. What had caused this??? 

Chandler was also fraught with his impression of Phoebe. All On the one hand, Phoebe had done a terrible thing to Monica, something that shouldn't be forgiven. On the other hand, she was one of their best friends and was obviously so guilt-stricken that she'd attempted suicide. Why hadn't anyone noticed that Phoebe felt so horrible? Sure, they hadn't really seen her in weeks... Chandler felt another pang of guilt. Maybe Phoebe wasn't the person they all thought she had been, but she was still their friend, and they still loved her. 

that time they'd been worried about Monica... and then Phoebe goes and does it right under their noses. _What is wrong with the world? _Chandler swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes shut. 

A nurse came out, and Joey immediately stood up. "Is she okay?" he asked, running to her.

"I can't tell you anything yet," the nurse said remorsefully. "But we found this in her pocket. It's to 'Monica, Joey, Chandler, Rachel, and Ross'."

Chandler stomach flopped. 

"That's us," Ross said, his voice shaking. Joey took the crumpled note from the nurse, and they all sat down to read it.

_First, I just want to say I'm sorry. Monica, I'm so sorry for what I did. I know you can never forgive me. I have never made a bigger mistake in my life, and it hurts more than you will ever know to think that I caused you such pain. You have always been there for me, and I have betrayed you so horribly, I would never be able to forgive myself. I want you to know that I love you. _

To Ross, Rachel, Joey, and Chandler - you were right for being angry with me. I am not angry with you, because I deserved no more respect than you gave me. I also want you to know that you did not cause this. I set my own fate. It isn't your fault. I love you guys too.

To Frank, Alice, and babies Frank, Leslie, and Chandler - I love you. You were a great family, even if I didn't know you for very long.

I didn't want to leave like my mother did. That was never my plan. But now I know the desperation, the self-loathing that she felt. The pain that comes when you realize life isn't worth living. This is nobody's fault but my own. Good bye.

Phoebe Buffay

Chandler felt sick. Phoebe had written them a suicide note. Rachel was crying, and Joey was white as a sheet. None of them knew what to say, so they were silent. Chandler wondered why Phoebe felt she had to take her own life. Did she think they all hated her that much? Chandler was angry with himself. If he was a part of one of his best friends' killing herself...

The doctor came out. They all looked up at him, not speaking, waiting for his answer. 

"She's alive," the doctor said. "But just barely. She's unconscious." They all breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"Can we see her?" Rachel asked anxiously.

"That would be good," the doctor said. "Sometimes, barely comatose patients will come out of it if they hear loved one's voices." He began to walk away, and the four followed. 

Chandler blanched as he saw Phoebe lying in the hospital bed. Her skin was sallow, almost translucent. Tubes ran into her mouth and nose, and an IV drip was sending fluids into her body through her arm. 

"Oh my God," Rachel whispered, clutching both Ross and Chandler's arms in a death grip. 

"Pheebs," Joey said. "Phoebe. Are you in there?" They all began to cry as they heard Joey's desperate pleas for his friend to live again. Chandler knew that Joey had actually been seeing Phoebe since Monica had left, and knew that he had forgiven Phoebe much more readily than the rest of them could have dreamed. "Please, Phoebe. Please come back." He leaned over her bed, whispering softly.

But Phoebe didn't open her eyes.

Chandler went home three hours later, feeling drained. He was utterly exhausted from the drive, and then seeing Phoebe. They'd tried to convinced Joey to come home and get some sleep, and go back to the hospital in the morning, but he refused to leave Phoebe's side. 

Chandler was almost asleep when the phone rang. "Shhh," he groaned at it. "Goddammit." Then he was wide awake. It could be about Phoebe. "Hello?" he muttered.

"Chandler? Where have you been? I've been calling all night! Is everything okay?" It was Monica, yelling shrilly into the phone. _Shit,_ he thought, _I've got to tell her._

"Sorry," he said, trying to clear his head. "Mon, something did happen." 

"What?" Monica asked, her voice filled with dread. "What happened?" Chandler winced as he realized his tone had been much too ominous. He would just have to say it. 

"Phoebe overdosed on sleeping pills. She tried to kill herself, Mon."

A/N: Please review! Sorry this took so long, by the way. Oh, and if you all MUST tell me that you think this is ridiculous, go ahead. I wasn't trying to write an orthodox fic here. :) So, good or bad, please review!


	6. Cruel

A/N: Again, thank you for the reviews! Oh, and to clear it up, yes, the ****** meant the flashback was over. Sorry about the confusion. Oh, and about the word parsimonious - yeah, I caught that after I uploaded, I meant to type something else! 

Disclaimer: I do not own anything. :( But Matthew Perry is a cutie... I wouldn't mind owning him! 

CHAPTER SIX - Cruel

"Chandler..." Monica said, her voice shaking. "Please, _please_ tell me you're kidding. And if you're kidding, I'll kill you, because that is just cruel. No, that is beyond cruel, that is... _inhuman!_"

"I'm not kidding," Chandler said sadly. "She's in the hospital. They - they found a suicide note."

"Oh my God," Monica said faintly. "Oh my God. I think I'm going to pass out. Please hold while I pass out."

"Monica - "

"No, I'm going to throw up. Oh my God, Chandler, why? _Why?_ Is she okay? Is it _my fault?_" Monica sounded beyond despairing.

"She's still unconscious," Chandler explained gently. "And no, it's not your fault. She said that in the note. She doesn't want you to feel bad. _She said that._ It's not your fault. She thought she fucked up her life and she said she just didn't see the point of living anymore."

The only sound was of Monica's sobs. "I w-w-was so angry, but she's my f-f-friend and I still l-l-love her. If she d-dies, I won't be able to, to live with myself."

"I know, sweetie. But we just have to pray for her," Chandler whispered. It was quiet. "Monica, do you want to come down here?"

"I don't know," Monica said. "It - I don't know if I can see her."

"But do you maybe want to come to..." Chandler hated to say the next few words, but he knew he had to. "To say good-bye?"

"Maybe," Monica said. "I guess so." She took a deep breath, then blew it out. "Okay. All right. I'm coming tomorrow morning. But I'm going to your place first. I can't just show up at the hospital and see everyone."

They said good-bye, and Chandler, despite his racing mind, fell instantly asleep.

The next morning, when Chandler woke up, Joey still had not come home. Ross and Rachel came by and asked if he wanted to get a ride with them to the hospital.

"I have to do something here," he explained. An hour later, there was a knock at his door.

"Hey," Monica said.

"Hi," Chandler said, hugging her again. It had been only one day since he'd seen her, but he needed to hold her in his arms again. "You ready to go?"

They took a cab to the hospital. Partway through the ride, Monica unbuckled her seatbelt and slid over to nestle in Chandler's arms. Chandler kissed the top of her head and held her tightly. 

They walked up to the third floor of the hospital, where Phoebe's room was. Monica paused outside the hallway before the lobby.

"What's the matter?" Chandler asked her. 

"I haven't talked to anybody but you since..." Monica said. "It's been a month. Are they mad at me for leaving?"

Chandler hesitated. They kind of were. Ross, especially at first, thought it was cowardly of his little sister to leave because things got bad, but they'd all forgotten it. "No. They're not."

Monica nodded resolutely and followed Chandler to Phoebe's room. Chandler poked his head inside first. Joey was still at his vigil next to Phoebe's bed, and Ross and Rachel were leaning against the wall, talking in low tones. "Guys. Come out here for a sec. It's important." The three left the room. 

"Monica!" Ross cried. "What - what are you doing here?"

"Hi," Monica said, avoiding their eyes.

"Mon, where have you been?" Rachel asked, quickly hugging her friend. 

"Away," Monica replied simply.

"How did you know to come here?" Joey asked.

Monica glanced at Chandler, who cleared his throat. "We've sort of, um, been talking on the phone."

Ross swiveled to give Chandler a hard look. "You've been talking to her and you didn't tell me?"

"Ross, chill out," Monica snapped. "We can talk about it later. How's Phoebe?"

"Still unconscious," Rachel said. "But the doctors said there's some brain activity, so that's a good sign. The sleeping pills just shut her down... they said it could take a while for her to come back on."

"I still can't believe she did this," Monica said, running her hands through her hair. "_Phoebe_? She always seemed so happy, even when times got bad! And she knew how awful it was when her mother died... didn't she know we still love her?"

"She thinks you hate her," Joey said.

"But I said - "

"She knows what you said," he interrupted. "And she knows you hate her. Come on, Mon - doesn't a little part of you hate her for what she did? Don't you hate that she willingly got in bed with your husband, that he touched her and held her and kissed her - "

"Stop," Chandler said firmly as Monica's face crumpled. "Come on, Joe. I know you're hurting, but stop."

"Maybe a little piece of me _does_ hate her," Monica said in a voice that sounded vicious through her tears. "Maybe a little piece of me really wants to hate her forever. But that piece is really small. I didn't think I ever wanted to see Phoebe again, but if she's this sorry and she's suffering this much, I want to help her. I don't think I can ever completely forgive her - I'll grant you that. But I can move past it. Do you really think I'm that cruel, Joey? Did you think I _wanted_ to see Phoebe hurt herself?"

"No," Joey muttered. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Monica."

"It's okay," Monica said softly. "Now let's go see Phoebe." 

Monica went into the hospital room and walked straight up to Phoebe. She picked up her friend's limp hand and kissed it softly. "Hey, Pheebs. It's Monica. Yeah, I'm here. Honey, I don't know why you did this. Did you think I hated you? I really don't. I love you. I was angry with you, and I still am, but I want you back! I want you to be here with me again, I want you to play your guitar, and say random things to make us all laugh... God, you make me laugh so much. I know things have changed because of what happened. I know it can never go back to being totally normal, but things can be good again. It'll take some time and effort, and tears and smiles. But we can do it! We have all our best friends here to help us. I know you'd be laughing if you could see this, because the guys are all crying like babies." She paused and laughed, looking back at the others, who were in fact crying. "I really need you to wake up. We all do. And think about Frank and Alice, and the triplets... they all love you too. I just want you to know that we're all here for you. You must have been so troubled to do this! But don't worry. We'll be here for you forever." She set Phoebe's hand gently back on the sheet and turned away, waiting until now to sob. She went straight to Chandler's open arms. 

Later, as they all sat in uncomfortable hospital chairs, Ross, Rachel, and Joey grilled Monica. 

"Where were you staying?" Ross asked.

"Upstate."

"Are you coming home?" Rachel asked. 

Monica pondered this. "I think I am.''

Chandler fell asleep, and when her awoke, everyone was gone. There was a note taped to his hand that said Ross, Rachel, and Joey had gone home to sleep and shower, but Monica was no where to be found. Cautiously, Chandler got up and went inside Phoebe's room.

Monica had pulled a chair up and was sitting next to Phoebe with her back to Chandler. He could just barely make out what she was saying.

"Remember when Joey got his head stuck in the turkey? And you put him on the table and pretended his body wasn't there? Oh, and remember when the underdog balloon got away? So many funny things have happened to us. I want to have a lifetime more." Monica continued to tell Phoebe about their life. Chandler leaned against the doorway and smiled. _God, Monica cares for her so much_, he thought. _She ruined Monica's life and still, Monica loves her._ That was one of the things Chandler loved about Monica - her willingness to come to everyone's rescue despite anything else. That and about a billion other things.

He forgot he was supposed to be quiet and coughed. Monica started and turned around. "How long have you been here?" she demanded.

"Long enough," Chandler said. He went up and started rubbing Monica's shoulder. "How ya doing?"

"Okay," Monica said, shrugging. "God, I hope she wakes up. I won't be able to live with myself to know I took away someone's sister, three little people's aunts... I just won't."

"She's not going to die," Chandler said steadfastly. 

"How do you know?" Monica inquired, standing up and facing him so their faces were inches apart. "How can you be sure?''

"Well, I'm not sure," Chandler amended. "But Phoebe's a survivor. She survived her father leaving and her mother dying, she survived living on the street - hell, she survived living with you," he joked. Monica swatted him. "If someone can live with you they can live through anything."

"Chandler, I want you to tell me the truth about something," Monica said suddenly, changing the path of the conversation. "I know you lied before. I could hear it in your voice. Do you think I don't know it when you're lying? So this time, promise me you won't lie."

"I won't lie," Chandler pledged.

"Does Richard really regret what happened? Do you think he wishes things were how they used to be?" There was something in Monica's eyes Chandler couldn't quite pinpoint? Hope? Anger? 

Chandler sighed. He didn't want to be the one to tell her. He didn't want to have to be the one to cause her so much pain. But she asked, and he had to tell her.

"I don't think so, Mon," he said. "I think he wanted out, and he saw Phoebe as a way. I know he really did love you, but he changed after the baby. He didn't deserve you. He - he already moved out. Your apartment's been empty for two weeks. I'm sorry, Mon."

Monica was at a loss for several seconds. Then she nodded. "Okay."

"Are you okay?" Chandler asked worriedly.

"I will be," she said. "I'm not going to cry over him anymore. You're right. I deserve better."

"Damn right," Chandler said, feeling slightly triumphant. "You deserve someone who will always love you and respect you, Monica."

"Chandler, will you do something for me?" Monica asked.

"What?" Chandler asked.

"Will you kiss me again?"

Chandler stared at Monica. _Is this a joke?_ he wondered. He watched her closely for any signs of a teasing smile, but saw none. _Here's your chance,_ he thought. _Here's your chance to kiss her. Here's your chance to tell her how you feel._

During the long pause, Monica turned red. "Y'know - forget it. That was really stupid. I was just - "

Chandler cut her off - with his lips. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, and she kissed him back. 

"Wow! How long have I been asleep?" a groggy voice asked.

Chandler and Monica broke apart, beyond startled. Chandler's heart all but stopped beating as he and Monica turned to the bed.

Phoebe was awake. Her eyes were wide open and she was smiling at the two of them.

"Oh my God, Pheebs," Monica said, tears filling her eyes.

"Monica - I could hear you," Phoebe said, becoming serious. "I could hear you talking, but it was like I was in a dream. Do you really, truly forgive me?"

"Not entirely," Monica said with a grin. "But we can work on it."

A/N: Review please! Thanks :) -Jen


	7. Haze

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I've been busy with other fics, and school and homework and finals. I hope you're satisfied with this chapter! Thanks. (And btw, the asterisks ***** mean switching from Chan's to Mon's POV. This starts from Chandler's.)

CHAPTER SEVEN - Haze

Phoebe left the hospital three days later. She was to be supervised around the clock for a few days, and the doctors had also advised her to see a therapist. But they weren't worried about her anymore. No, with Monica back, no one was really worried about anything. Monica and Phoebe were trying to work things out, but it would be easy - they both love each other so much that even if the event wouldn't be forgotten, it could be forgiven.

Only one thing was on Chandler's mind. In those moments before Phoebe woke up, he and Monica had shared one of the most passionate kisses he'd ever had. But did it mean anything? Chandler first got the impression from Monica that it didn't, but he then realized that she was thinking things over just as much as he was. He would have to let her figure her life out. She was probably the most confused person he'd ever seen.

Phoebe tactfully avoided the subject, and they were grateful. With things the way they were, nobody wanted Ross, Rachel, or Joey finding out and promptly making things ten times bigger then they were. Hell, if Rachel found out, their parents would be calling tomorrow to ask when the wedding was.

It was a week after Monica moved back home that it finally came up. Monica was making lunch for her, Chandler, and Phoebe, and when she sat down, Phoebe popped the question.

"So are you two like an item?" she asked. Chandler felt his ears turn red.

"Um, ah, I don't - I don't know," Monica stuttered. She looked at Chandler, who meaningfully began to twiddle his thumbs. 

"I don't know," he muttered.

"We really just kissed the one time," Monica explained.

"Well, and the time at the cabin," Chandler added.

"And when we were younger," Monica remembered. 

"I see," Phoebe said. "So, really, there's nothing going on between you at all!" She smiled and took a big bite from her sandwich. And the subject had been dropped.

_Could anything actually happen?_ Chandler wondered. One part of him said the answer was a firm _no._ _No - she's not even divorced from Richard yet. You were a friend that was there when she needed one, and nothing more. Better not to embarrass yourself._

But then... hadn't _she_ been the one to initiate the third kiss? Hell, initiate - she had _asked_ him to kiss her! _If that's not a sign, nothing is,_ Chandler thought hopefully. He was so confused, so unsure - so he waited. _Regardless, Monica would never even think about starting anything with anyone until everything's settled down._ Would she?

Which actually happened much quicker than he expected. Before Monica even had time to hire a lawyer, Richard had sent her divorce papers. Chandler found her poring over them one day.

"Hey," he said, walking into her apartment. "Whatcha doing?"

"Getting divorced," she replied.

"Really?"

"Yeah - the papers are here." She held up the packet and smiled faintly. "In a couple of hours I'll be single."

"You okay?" he asked, touching her arm lightly. 

"Yeah," she sighed. "I mean, I really thought this would last forever... I guess I was wrong. But I'll be all right. I really didn't know Richard at all. He's so - "

"Old?" Chandler suggested. 

"I was going to say _deceitful_, but yeah, old works too," Monica said. "Y'know, sometimes I still don't believe all of this happened. It happened so quickly, and it was so complicated - that's why I left. It was too much to deal with. You were right when you said I was running away."

"If it makes you feel any better, I would have run too," Chandler said.

"I just can't believe it all culminated in Phoebe..." Monica trailed off. "_That_ shocked me. I'm so happy everything turned out okay. And I'm glad I decided to come back home."

"So am I," Chandler said. They smiled at each other, and their eyes locked. God, he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her. 

They were leaning closer together, almost unintentionally. Chandler became hyperaware of his arms and legs and limbs, of his whole body, which ached in a pleasant way - he needed to touch her. He watched as her eyes fluttered shut, and he could feel her soft, feathery-light breath on his lips.

Then they were kissing. Soft, at first, then harder. Chandler's head was spinning in surprise and glee. And then, without warning - her hands were on his shoulders, pushing him away. Startled, he almost fell backwards, not realizing how far out of his chair he'd been - practically on the table.

"Mon - " he started, unsure of what he was going to say.

"I can't," she said quietly, avoiding his eyes. "I can't. Not yet." She stood up. "I'm - I'm sorry. But we can't." 

"What?" he said aloud, confused. 

"It wouldn't work, Chandler. Just... it wouldn't." She ran into her bedroom, the door closing behind her. Chandler heard the click as she locked it.

_Wouldn't work,_ he thought distractedly. _She _can't_, whatever the hell that means._

She didn't want him like he wanted her. That's all there was to it. 

Still in a haze of bewilderment from the kiss and the events that came after, Chandler walked back to his apartment. Monica had made it quite clear she didn't want to see him, what with the slamming and locking of the door.

Chandler walked straight to his bedroom, grateful Joey wasn't home. When he got there, he shut the door and fell onto the bed, feeling strangely empty. It was like a piece of his heart had been cut out of him, and was now lying on the floor of Monica's apartment. 

He'd been in love with Monica for years, and for years, he had prayed something could come of it. Even when she married Richard, he hadn't felt quite _rejected._ There was always divorce. And now, with their three kisses over the past week or two, he'd _expected_ for something to happen. But now - nothing. A tantalizing kiss and a slammed door. Obviously she felt _nothing._ Chandler had been burned by love too many times. 

A door inside him was locked. He would never let anyone in again.

*********

Monica fell onto her bed, her breath coming in gasps. Tears she didn't know were coming ran down her face in streams. A thousand things were running through her mind, a million pictures, a hundred settings. Chandler, Richard, Chandler, Phoebe, Chandler, Chandler, Chandler...

She rolled onto her back, staring up at the stucco ceiling. Why was her life so confusing? If she wanted to turn left, she'd instinctively turn right - if her future deserved it, her past held her back - and if her heart wanted it more than she could describe, her mind told her it wasn't worth the pain. Who was right? Monica needed clear-cut answers, not this bullshit she'd been dealing with. Her life was a series of twists and turns and mistakes and unanswered questions.

Why had she fallen in love with Richard?

Why had he cheated on her?

Why had she run away from Chandler when she needed him most? 

The last question was the one that was causing her heart to contort in pain, her head to pound incessantly. Why had she stopped the kiss? They'd been sitting there kissing, and then she'd pushed him away. As she clutched her pillow to her chest, Monica imagined the feel of Chandler's lips as they'd touched her own. What she felt for Chandler was so profound, so unexplainable. And that's why she'd left. Her heart could not deal with falling in love and then being broken again. She'd run from her life, just like she'd run from Richard and Phoebe. Just like she'd run every day in her fucked up life until she dealt with it. And she wasn't going to drag Chandler down with her. She was losing grip on her life. 

There was a gentle knock on the door. "Monica? Honey, it's Rachel." 

Monica quickly wiped her eyes, then called, "Come in." Rachel walked nervously in, and sat on the bed. 

"I heard you crying. What's the matter?"

"Nothing," she said quickly. "Just... um..." She took a deep breath. "Chandler and I kissed." She watched Rachel for any signs if disgust or disbelief, but saw nothing.

''Again?" Rachel said mildly.

"A_gain?_" Monica exclaimed. "How did you know about the other times?"

"Phoebe told me,'' Rachel said, smiling knowingly.

"Uh," Monica said, trying to sound annoyed but failing. She was actually relieved that she didn't have to explain it all. 

"So why are you in here crying? Shouldn't you be over there getting it on?" Rachel asked with a laugh.

"I can't let myself be hurt again," Monica said softly. "I can't go down that road."

"I don't think he would ever hurt you," Rachel replied.

"That's what I thought with Richard too," Monica said angrily. "Aren't you supposed to be supporting me?"

"I'm trying to figure out what's best for you," Rachel snapped back. "Monica, listen. I know you've been hurt before. I know you have a great amount of distrust in you right now. But that doesn't mean you should sit around crying for the rest of your life. You have a fantastic thing sitting there waiting for you across the hall, and you're too busy being insecure and worried to enjoy it."

"I'm not _insecure,_" Monica said.

"Oh, yes you are. And you're scared."

"I am _not!_" Monica whined. "I don't get scared."

"You're terrified, Monica Geller. You're terrified of the one person in the entire world who loves you for you."

Monica opened her mouth to argue, then shut it. "He - he _loves_ me?"

Rachel's eye widened. "Did you - did you not _know?_"

"Chandler _loves me_?"

"My God, Monica, that man is been in love with you for ten years." Rachel shook her head and laughed. "Wow, you really are blind."

_Chandler loves me_, Monica thought. _He loves me._ Now that she thought about it - why had she never noticed? The way he was always there for her, listening to every petty problem she'd ever had - the way he'd leave dates in the hallway if she came home in tears - the way their hugs lingered a little longer than did, say, Monica and Joey. The way he always seemed to dislike Richard, how he acted cold and strange for months after their engagement and marriage....

"Don't be so surprised, Mon," Rachel said calmly, in the manner of someone discussing pillowcases. "You love him too."

"I..." Monica could not think of a single thing to say in her defense. Wait a second - _defense?_ What did she need a defense for? All signs pointed to the truth. Chandler was the first one Monica went to when she needed someone, even when Rachel was right in the next room. Chandler was the only one Monica trusted enough to call when she was upstate. Chandler was the one who listened to her moan about her shattered life, who held her while she cried.

"Rach - what do I do now?" Monica cried in alarm.

"Go_ talk to Chandler_," Rachel said imploringly. Monica stood up, running her hands through her hair.

"Okay. Okay. I can do that. I'm going to talk to Chandler."

"Good girl."

Monica's brain was working on overdrive. She turned to Rachel. "Do I look okay?"

"You look fine. Now, go!" Rachel stood up, pecked her friend on the cheek, and pushed her out of the room. Monica left her apartment and went straight to the guy's. She opened the door but found the living room empty. 

_Talk to Chandler,_ she thought. Now there was an idea that was easier said than done. _Yeah, hi, Chandler, I just found out that you've been in love with me for ten years, and you know what? I've loved you too. So aren't things fine and dandy? _Right. 

She took a deep breath as she stood outside his door, and then contemplated the idea that he might not even be there. She prayed he was - now that she'd had this revelation, she couldn't wait any longer to talk to him. She pushed open the door.

He was lying on the bed with a book on his chest. His eyes were closed and he was breathing softly. Monica thought he was asleep, and, disappointed, turned to leave.

"Monica?" She whipped back around and saw him sitting up, staring at her in uncertainty. 

"Hi," she said, giving him a weak smile. The first thing she noticed was that his gorgeous blue eyes were rimmed with red, and the corners of his mouth were turned downward. He looked old, older than the man of 32 years he was. Monica felt a pang of shame - had she been the one to cause him to look like that? 

She took a step toward him. "Listen, Chandler - " She cut herself off, launching herself at him. She grabbed his face and kissed him. Fireworks exploded in her head, and she closed her eyes, losing herself in the kiss. Fire licked her insides and the kiss grew more passionate. She fell onto the bed as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

Finally she pulled her head away, her hair framing both of their faces.

"Hi," she whispered again.

"Hi," he said back, smiling. "What does this mean?"

"It means I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For being an idiot."

"You're forgiven," Chandler murmured, pushing some of her hair behind her ear as she rolled over next to him. "Monica, I have to - to tell you..."

"Hmm?" 

"I - I love you."

Monica opened her mouth the speak but found her tongue was too thick to form the right words.

"I know."

A/N: I think there will just be one more chapter, probably an epilogue. Thank you for being patient, and review please! 

Jen


	8. Love

A/N: Here's the last chapter! It's not an epilogue, but it IS the end! And I just heard - tenth season of _Friends!_ Yay!!!!

Disclaimer: I don't own the _Friends_ or Avril Lavigne's song "Losing Grip." 

CHAPTER EIGHT - Love

_A month later_

Monica walked home through the rain, scowling viciously. She was cold and drenched, and as far as she knew, she was going home to an empty apartment. She wished she could go home to Chandler, but as far as she knew, he was working late. Monica knew her boyfriend could make her feel warm even when it was 30 below. 

Finally, she reached the relative warmth of her building's lobby. She got the mail and found only bills and junk, including one bill that proclaimed her credit card would be taken away if she did not pay the bills for the last three months.

_Could this day get any better?_ she thought, and walked upstairs, grumbling. She opened her apartment door and found Chandler sitting at the kitchen table. Sudden warmth spread through her, and a smile lit up both of their faces.

"Hi," he said, standing up and coming over to her.

"Hi," she whispered back. She closed her eyes as Chandler put her arms around her and kissed her deeply. "Ooh," she moaned, "I'm getting you all wet."

"I don't mind," he whispered, holding her even closer. She shivered in his arms. 

"Listen, I'm going to go take a shower, and then maybe..." she raised her eyebrows seductively and let the rest of the statement trail off. Chandler smiled demurely and let her go. Shivering from cold and nervousness now, Monica slipped away into the bathroom. She turned the water on to the hottest it could go. 

_Did I just suggest sex?_ she asked herself. She took her wet clothes off and stepped into the boiling shower. As the spray warmed her all over, creating little goose bumps of pleasure on her arms and legs, she smiled. _Maybe that's not such a bad idea._

Her eyes were closed and she was bathing in the warmth of the shower when the door clicked open. She opened her eyes, startled, and, through the transparent shower curtain, saw Chandler standing there. Her first instinct was the cover herself - he'd never seen her naked. But she just grinned at him and beckoned him forward. It was now or never.

She watched as his eyes took in her whole body, her luscious curves. Finally, their eyes met, and he began to undress slowly. Monica found herself nervous again. She'd never seen him naked; they'd never had sex - what if it wasn't good?

Then Chandler was stepping into the shower with her, and both of their bodies were enveloped and comforted by the warm mist. Their lips met, and they kissed, hard and passionately. Then Chandler trailed his lips down her neck, down her body - he kissed her all over until she shivered with pleasure. 

They made love in the shower, and then he lifted her up and, as she kissed him, carried her into the bedroom, where they made love again. 

A while later, as they lay together in the bed, silent and just happy to be together, Monica whispered, "I love you."

He turned to her, and smiled, his eyes half shut. He had said those three words to her before, on the day they decided to go out, but he had never uttered them.

"I love you too."

As they kissed again, Monica thought back through the past months. They had been the most confusing of her life, and she hoped she would never experience any like that again. She had discovered her husband cheating on her with her best friend. She had run away and been lonely for weeks, taking comfort only in Chandler. And she had heard the most horrifying news - that he friend had attempted suicide. 

But Monica had made it through it all. She had Phoebe back; she had all her friends back. And she had Chandler, in a way she never thought she would. She was in love, truly, earnestly, madly in love with a man she knew would never hurt her like Richard had. Because he was Chandler. Her best friend in the entire world, who she trusted more than anything, who she new would love her until the end of time. 

A sudden knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Exchanging a glance with Chandler, she got out of bed, pulled on a robe, and went to the front door, Chandler trailing behind her. She opened the door and gasped.

_Richard_ was standing here. 

"Richard?" Monica cried. 

"Hi, Monica," he said. He looked behind her and saw Chandler, his mouth wide open. "Chandler." Chandler made a strange noise in response.

"What do you want, Richard?" Monica asked sharply, staring up into the face of the man she thought she once loved. 

"I want - can I come in?" Richard asked, eyeing Chandler.

"No," Monica and Chandler said together. Chandler took another step towards the doorway, and Monica suppressed a smile at the semi-menacing look on his face. _Threatening just doesn't work on you, baby._

"Okay. Monica, I - I just wanted to say I'm sorry," Richard said.

"Oh, really?" Monica asked casually. "What about?" Richard furrowed his brow. _Yeah, I'm not letting you off easy,_ she thought. 

"For... umm..."

"For cheating on me with my best friend? Or for running away like a wuss and not even caring about me? Or for not coming back until months later? Which one are you sorry for, Richard, huh?" Monica spat.

"All of them!" Richard cried. "Monica, listen, I know that you probably hate me, but I still love you. I want you back."

Monica's stomach flopped and for a second she was afraid she might pass out. Was he _serious?_ She felt Chandler's hand on her shoulder and opened her eyes. 

"Okay..." Monica said. "I can't... I have nothing to say to that."

"Just think about it. Think about us," Richard said. 

"No!" Monica cried. "I'm - no. Richard, I'm with Chandler now." She put her arms around him, and he held her protectively. Monica watched as Richard's face turned a pale, sallow color. He swallowed hard.

"I see," he said, nodding ever so slightly. "I see."

"You left me, Richard. I can't ever forgive you for what you did," Monica said quietly. 

He nodded again. "Okay. Well, I - I hope you two are happy." He forced a smile, then turned and left. Once he was out of sight, Monica relaxed into Chandler's arms, trying not to cry. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered into his shirt. "I'm not crying over him, I swear to God - "

"It's okay, baby," Chandler soothed her. "I know." Monica pulled away, her eyes still shining with tears, and smiled at Chandler. This was the man she loved. This was the man she deserved.

"I love you so much," she murmured again. 

"I love you too."

She had almost lost everything that was important to her, almost lost grip on her entire life. But now, she thought as she lay in Chandler's arms, now she was right back where she belonged.

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing! I hope you liked the last chapter. And thank you to Jenni (not me, lol) for helping me out with this chapter! Everybody give her some credit! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!!! Thanks again - 

Jen


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